We had tried out some outfits before, but today was the first time I had complete and distinct costumes AND changed into them between scenes. The director used theatre funds to buy us some shirts, and I think we've settled on what we're going to wear. The trick is that I have very little time to change before the last scene of the play. I end the second scene onstage, cross to the opposite backstage area, change everything except my underwear, wristwatch, and glasses, and start the next scene onstage. I can't think of any shortcuts; I can't even keep the same pair of socks because I move from bright summer colors to black and gray.
We start the rehearsal with news that the mistress's father died. She has spent most of the day juggling phones and making arrangements. He's three time zones away; she can't see him or the ceremonies during the show. She's gone through utter shit since this play started, and she's soldiering on like a pro. Our murderer is still sick, but he has better luck with his lines. Well, except for dropping an entire page in Act Two, but we make the leap seamless. I don't think the director even notices; the actor himself wasn't aware of it until I mentioned it after the practice. Luckily, the script is so redundant, that lost information is covered later. We all have to improvise tonight. We don't call for lines and muddle through the tripped tongues and skewed cue lines. We do a good job.
The tech problems continue, however, and I've never seen this director as upset. He was livid. I can't say where the trouble lies: Is the light person too old? Is the machine too complicated? Is the script not clear enough? Maybe we should have introduced them earlier, but our schedule suggests he didn't expect this trouble.
We have tonight off, and I'll read my script to catch any lines that may have faded as I concentrated on Act Two stuff. I might get the missus to run lines with me. I've started work on this show's magnet, and I may have it fully drawn by the end of the week. The director was very complimentary to me as the rehearsal ended, which inspires me to bring it all the more when the curtain opens.
Picture of the Day
A sentence I never thought I'd say: I want this kite.